What Cory Said to Me

“I’ll see you two later,” Rachel said with a wink. I’m pretty sure she was just joking with the wink, but I still got nervous. I almost yelled, “Rachel, wait!” to avoid having another awkward conversation with Cory, but I restrained. There were some things that had to be said. And it looked like I had to say them.
“So what’s going on with you, Walker?” Cory asked when Rachel had left.
I almost smiled. That “Walker” comment brought back memories from when Cory and I were close. Or, as close as we could ever be, anyway. He would call me “Walker” since my name is Rose Walker and I would call him “Gangster” because his name was Cory Gensterblum.
“Nothing much, Gangster,” I said, trying to pretend like everything was normal between us. Like he hadn’t completely crushed my heart.
A silence filled the air. It’s not like it was unexpected or anything. I had figured Cory wouldn’t try to keep the conversation going. He was the popular one. I was supposed to do my best to make the talking we were doing easy for him.
“Do you have any homework?” I asked, doing it for him.
“Just a little math,” he replied, staring at his shoes as they touched the sidewalk.
And that was it. No “How about you?” or “I hate math” or any attempt to let me comment. It was like talking to a Barbie that only says one phrase.
It didn’t use to be.
“Lucky you,” I said. “That d--- Mrs. Fabio gave me a s---load of homework.”
Cory turned and looked at me for the first time our entire conversation. His eyes widened and eyebrows rose, and I knew now he was interested. “I didn’t know you swore,” he said, looking shocked and impressed.
I felt the sudden urge to cry again. But instead, I blinked back tears and replied, “There’s a lot of things you don’t know,” my voice cracking.
His face instantly changed. Cory looked confused and weirded out. “Are you about to cry?” he asked, not sounding concerned for me.
“No,” I said angrily. “I just said there are a lot of things you don’t know.”
“What don’t I know?” he asked with and unchanged expression.
I almost hit him. What did he know?!
“You don’t know anything about anyone anymore,” I started, trying to keep my cool.
Cory looked at me as if I was mentally insane. “What the heck are you talking about?!” he cried, not trying to keep his own cool.
I bit my lip. Why was it so hard to talk to him!? Why couldn’t I just come out and say it!!?
“C-Cory… you… Cory, y-you’ve changed,” I stuttered.
Cory didn’t respond, but continued giving me the same look.
Oh, what the heck. Cory wasn’t even going to remember this conversation as soon as he called his d--- girlfriend.
“Ever since you got popular you’ve been an a--, Cory Gensterblum,” I said, looking him straight in the eye.
“Wh-wha?” he said, more a question than statement.
“You go out with w----s. You bully everybody else. Your ego is bigger that your imaginary d---,” I continued, managing to sound calm.
“It is not!” he cried. I ignored him.
“You’re a backstabber. You talk about people behind their backs. You don’t look at a girl’s personality, you look at her a--. And I’ve seen your games, Cory. You’re a ball hog.”
“I’m none of those things!” he argued.
I bit my lip even harder. I blinked back more tears. “Jessie told me what you said about me. A teacher's pet, huh?” I whispered. I looked in him straight in the eye and he couldn’t look away, despite how uncomfortable I knew he felt.
Not even waiting for him to make up an excuse or a lie, I continued, “You didn’t use to be that way, Cory.”
“How did I use to be, Rose?” he asked, looking annoyed. But I knew he was curious.
Oh, God. Now I was really gonna cry. This could possibly be the worst pain I’ve ever felt.
“You used to be… smart, Cory.”
“I still am! I get straight A’s! I’m on the honor roll!” he interrupted almost instantly.
I gave him my most disappointed look. He was bragging again. “You used to be more than school smart, Cory. You used to think about things. You used to wonder about stuff. You didn’t just memorize facts before. You studied it. And you cared about more than sports and getting girls laid.”
Cory bit his lip and stared at me. I think it was starting to click in his brain what I was talking about. He still said nothing, however.
“And I know I’m not the only one who thinks this, Cory. People miss the old you. People loved the old you,” I whispered.
Cory went from looking like a thoughtful teenager to an angry child in almost two seconds flat. “Nobody loved me when I was a loser!” he shouted.
“I did!” I screamed.
I have to admit, it felt good to interrupt him for a change.
But not for long.
His eyes lit up like he had never seen anything before in his life. Shock filled his eyes, then uncomfort, and then… fear.
“Wait…you?” he began to ask slowly. “You… liked me?”
Despite my calm response, I felt like screaming. He was being all shallow and stupid again. Just like everyone else, when I knew deep down he was so much different.
“I didn’t like you, Cory… I loved you,” I whispered, finally letting the tears roll. “And I know you loved me too.”
He didn’t say anything. His expression had not changed. I could no longer tell what he was thinking.
“Anyway… I have to go,” I said quickly, and turned away from Cory.
“Rose, wait!” he shouted after me almost instantly.
I know I shouldn’t have. I should’ve just kept walking. After all, I still remember the times I called out for him and got no response. I remember the sting. I remember the abandonment. I remember the confusion.
The pain.
But I had since moved on… sort of. My life was finally together after Cory, so I had no excuse to give that loser the time of day and reopen the wounds that had healed by talking to him.
Yet, I still turned around.
“Why… why did you tell me all this?” he asked, and I could tell the question was eating him inside now.
A part of me smiled because of the irony. Another part of me nearly burst into hysteric sobs. A third part of me was just as confused as him. The even funnier (funny in a cruel, sick way) thing was if I had been confused a few years ago, I would have talked the very boy that confused me today.
“Good question,” I said coldly. No feeling was found anywhere in my voice. The cold December air was not enough to cool off the nervous heat that had welled inside of me.
With that, I turned on my heel and walked as dignified as humanly possible away from Cory. The incredible, overwhelming urge to turn around built inside of me like a wall of bricks. It felt heavier emotionally than before I first talked to that stupid egomaniac. But I couldn’t look back. I would never be able to forgive or respect myself ever again if I turned around.
Tears burning in my eyes as I forced myself not to turn around and respond to Cory’s constant calls, I walked home, head held high.
Just before I locked myself in my room and cried.